


picnic

by curiositykilled



Series: tumblr prompts [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, Hiking, M/M, Picnics, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 14:43:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12509752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiositykilled/pseuds/curiositykilled
Summary: Between their old roles as paladins and new ones as universal emissaries, time together is rare. They pass each other briefly, just long enough for a quick kiss goodnight or good morning, and are gone.But today – today is reserved for each other.





	picnic

                  Between their old roles as paladins and new ones as universal emissaries, time together is rare. They pass each other briefly, just long enough for a quick kiss goodnight or good morning, and are gone.

                  But today – today is reserved for each other.

Shiro eyes the weather app, checking it for the fifth time in the past half hour. Thunder rumbles quietly, still in the distance.

                  “It’s going to be fine,” Keith says stubbornly, not even looking over.

                  Shiro raises an eyebrow at his boyfriend’s back. ‘Optimism’ isn’t a word he often uses for Keith. _Obstinate,_ on the other hand…

                  “We can really have a picnic anywhere, Shiro says. “I’m just happy to be with you.”

                  Keith ducks his head but continues hiking up the rocky trail. His steps send up puffs of rust-red dust, mottling his black sneakers.

                  “It’ll pass,” Keith says. “We’re already this far.”

                  Shiro resigns himself to getting caught in the storm and is silently grateful he shoved Keith’s rain jacket into his backpack alongside his own. He keeps his eyes open as they continue along the canyon rim, absently looking for potential shelter for the inevitable rain.

                  The dropoff just three feet from where they walk is upwards of nine hundred feet and, were Shiro afraid of heights, he imagines he’d be nauseous. As it is, he can barely keep his gaze from sneaking to the gaping canyon below them. It yawns open like another world – its red and orange strata speckled with the twisted green of junipers and pinyon pines. Far, far below, he can just make out the white beetle-shape of an SUV trundling up the serpentine road.

                  He turns his gaze upward, just briefly to the sky. Purple-grey clouds blanket it, sheets of rain a grey curtain that rolls ever nearer. Shiro grimaces but turns back to the front without mentioning it to Keith.

                  They hike in silence for a while, past a sheer face Shiro scaled years ago, when he was first training for Kerberos, and past three suitable shelters – five, if they get desperate. Still, the rain comes closer.

                  “How far are we going?” he asks eventually.

                  Keith had only said “a ways” when they’d gotten up in the morning, and they’ve already passed the three mile mark some time ago.

                  “Not much farther,” Keith says. “Just past the dome.”

                  Shiro frowns. The slickrock gets dangerous when it’s wet, and with Keith’s sneakers, it could be treacherous. His glance to the sky is more nervous, this time, than it was before.

                  He chews his bottom lip, eyeing the clouds and guessing at how long it’ll take them to hit. The wind gusts through the rocks, plastering his bangs aross his forehead.

                  “Come on,” Keith calls from further ahead.

                  Shiro glances over to find him standing on a boulder some twenty yards ahead. The wind blows his hair back from his face, making the purple-red scar over his left side stand out starkly. He’s smiling, though, a small, closed-lip look of unbearable fondness. Shiro hurries to catch up.

                  It’s strange to be on Earth, some times. He’s spent so much of the past years with only the void of space yawning beneath his feet that it’s disorienting to take a step and find solid earth beneath his feet. He finds himself comparing his surroundings not to the red rock ravines around the Garrison but to that planet where Hunk accidentally got engaged to the leader’s eldest child, the shrubby vegetation to that on the planet Lance and Pidge were stranded for six quintents, the canyons within the park to the destruction left by a Galran attack.

                  Keith tilts his head, considering, as Shiro approaches. He reaches out a hand to help pull Shiro up to his level on the rock.

                  “You here?” he asks gently.

                  “Yeah,” Shiro says. “Just thinking.”

                  Keith considers him a moment but doesn’t press it. He simply turns to move forward once more, as always, and as always, Shiro follows.

                  They have to let go of each other as the path roughens, turning from a walking path to a scrambling path over boulders and loose rocks. It shows no sign of improving as they continue on, and Shiro forces himself not to look back over his shoulder at the sky he knows is steadily darkening. There’s no point in worrying over something he can’t avoid. Telling himself this doesn’t exactly make him follow it.

                  They scrabble over the rocks as the slope increases, until Shiro’s arms start to tire and his legs grow sore. The thunder is closer now, and the wind has picked up. He doesn’t bother mentioning it.

                  Keith is the first to crest the slope. He pauses only briefly, stock still, before clambering all the way up. He turns back and reaches down for Shiro. Shiro takes his hand, digs the toe of his boot into the loose dirt and hauls himself up. He stops immediately, breathless.

                  The canyon spills forth before them, not a gaping hole in the ground but a portal, a glimpse into something otherworldly. The red beneath their feet fades into orange, into gold as it traces down the long curve of the walls. As his gaze slips further out, the walls turn purple until they fade into the blue of the distant mountains. An entire world lays open to his eyes, wild and barely touched by human hands.

                  “Oh,” he breathes out. “Oh, Keith. This is gorgeous.”

                  He doesn’t have to look over to know Keith’s grinning, that proud little smile he only gets but rarely. Shiro lets go of him to wrap his arm around Keith’s shoulders and pull him into his side. Keith comes willingly, resting his head against Shiro’s.

                  From here, Shiro can see where the clouds begin to part, a startling blue breaking through the greys of the storm. It’s going west, just skirting them.

                  “Told you,” Keith teases as he pulls away.

                  He swings his backpack to the ground and crouches in one smooth motion, unzipping the largest pocket. Shiro rolls his eyes but sets his own bag down, too. He pulls out the rain jackets and lays them down on the ground for them to sit on before pulling their water bottles from the mesh pockets on either side. Keith eyes the rain jackets but says nothing when Shiro meets his gaze.

                  Instead, he starts pulling out food from his bag – bagged sandwiches and then baby carrots – and then an entire watermelon. Shiro stares, first at the melon, then at Keith. Keith grins a little crookedly.

                  “You said you wanted a picnic,” he says. “Gotta make it a real one.”

                  Shiro laughs. He leans forward and pulls Keith to him, hand sliding up to cup his jaw. Keith meets him in the middle and presses their lips together, a chaste, dry press. When they break apart, it’s only to press their foreheads together. Shiro can’t fight his smile, and when he opens his eyes, he finds Keith wearing a matching one.

**Author's Note:**

> FAQ from tumblr:
> 
> Q: How did Keith carry a watermelon in his backpack that whole way?  
> A: He can carry an entire Galra. A watermelon ain't shit.
> 
> Q: How are they going to cut the watermelon to eat it??  
> A: It's Keith. He has plenty of knives. Also Shiro's hand can cut through entire robots. Grilled watermelon is plenty tasty.


End file.
